Fault
by bakallone
Summary: "...the entire world seems to crumble away around him, leaving nothing but his body, curled up on a chair and shaking pathetically, and a pair of meek red eyes that won't open no matter how much he begs." 0027.


Ahh, so this one was a birthday present. Never written this pairing before, and I've never written Tsuna either, so I wasn't very confident in this at first. Quite a lot of wibbling later, however, I'm pleased enough with it to put it here. My first completed work. = w =

Happy Birthday, love.

* * *

The call comes at midnight.

Tsuna is cocooned tight in his blankets against the chill of winter, messy brown hair covering half of his face, when he is jarred abruptly from his slumber by a swift crack to the head from Reborn's tiny but lethal fist.

"Reborn!" he whines, struggling against the tight grip of the blankets to sit upright. "What was that for?" He rubs at the sore spot with his fingertips. He can't see the urgency on Reborn's face at first through his sleep-blurred eyes and the sharp sting of pain in his head.

"Quit whining, No-Good Tsuna. We have an emergency." The flat tone of the Arcobaleno's voice clears Tsuna's face of its affronted glare. He stares at Reborn, who stands on the end of his bed with a cell phone clutched in his small hand. The hitman's black eyes are missing their usual sly spark, and his face, chubby with accursed youth, is unreadable.

Now that he's more awake, Tsuna is aware of it: the strange feeling of his Hyper Intuition invading his mind. Usually it's only faint—an odd but not unpleasant sensation that widens his eyes and loosens his tongue until he finds his mouth spilling words he doesn't know the origin of, because they're always as new to him as they are to those he speaks them to— but now the Vongola's Hyper Intuition shoots through his head like a bolt of lightning, and he think that's probably not a good sign.

"Something—" he pauses, swallowing even though his mouth is drier than it's ever been, before he manages, "something's happened. Something bad. Enma-kun." His heart thumps, quick and uncomfortable, at his own words.

Reborn only nods.

* * *

When they arrive at the hospital, the rest of the Shimon family occupy the waiting room. Kaoru and Rauji sit side by side, faces white and staring at the floor as if the scuffed linoleum holds the secret to their boss' quick recovery. Shitt P is standing, completely motionless, at the other end of the room. Koyo paces back and forth, brows furrowed and muttering indistinguishable words under his breath, and Julie has his arms wrapped around Adelheid in a way that Tsuna has only seen end in violence in the past. Now, however, she doesn't seem to have any intention of pushing him away from her, and clutches one of his hands tightly to her chest. Her red eyes flick to Tsuna's face as the waiting room door swings shut behind him, but she makes no attempt to rise from her seat.

"Sawada," she whispers. Her voice is weaker than Tsuna has ever heard it, and he can't help but feel like he's intruding on something private. She clears her throat, leans against Julie's shoulder, and tries again. "Reborn told you what happened?"

He had. Perched on his shoulder and driving blade after blade into Tsuna's heart with every word, Reborn had explained to him all he knew about the circumstances leading to Enma's hospitalization.

According to what they know (which isn't a lot, really), a few high ranking members of an enemy famiglia cornered Enma on a solitary trip to the corner store earlier this evening. He fought back as best he could, but having been unprepared for the attack and grossly outnumbered, Enma sustained heavy injury.

Tsuna only nods lethargically and tips his head down until his eyes are hidden by his bangs. It's not because he doesn't want the Shimon to see the tears gathering there— he's No Good Tsuna after all; very used to showing others his weaknesses—but more because he can't stand the sight of Adel's glassy eyes. Julie's somber expression. Koyo's distressed pacing.

'_My fault. My fault. My fault.' _

What Reborn _hasn't _told him yet—what he doesn't need to hear from him anyway, since Tsuna's Hyper Intuition has been burning with the information since he'd learned of Enma's condition—is that the attack on the Shimon Boss was not an attack on the Shimon Family.

It was an attack on him. Sawada Tsunayoshi. Vongola Decimo.

Despite the Shimon's inarguable fighting power, they aren't a very influential family in the mafia world. There isn't anything for an organization to gain in attacking them. Only the fact that the Shimon are so closely allied with the Vongola makes them a target.

'_My fault.'_

Tsuna shifts his weight from foot to foot, staring hard at the floor and trying his best to think through the painful pulses of guilt and worry that race through his head.

"S-so, um," he begins. He finds his tongue too thick in his mouth somehow, and speaking is nearly impossible. He pauses to take a shaky breath, but he doesn't think any of the Shimon paid a moment's heed to the beginning of his sentence anyway, so he takes another breath before continuing. "Is Enma-kun—um, will he be alright?"

The entire Shimon family seems to flinch collectively at the sound of Enma's name, so Tsuna bites his lip and waits. One look at Adel's ghostly pale face tells Tsuna that she's in no fit state to answer him. It's Julie, this time, who speaks up.

"They said they're not sure." Julie's voice is quiet, but every word echoes through the waiting room as if it has been screamed. "They won't let anyone see him. They say if he makes it through the night—" Here he pauses to shift Adelheid, whose hands are now trembling faintly, closer to him. Rubbing her arm in a gentle show of comfort and affection that Tsuna has to look away from, he finishes. "If Enma can make it until morning, they say he'll be fine."

Tsuna isn't sure whether this makes him feel better or not.

He nods at Julie and moves to a chair at the other end of the waiting room, settling slowly onto the hard plastic and wringing his hands together. He feels entirely out of place here, surrounded by Enma's family, but leaving the hospital without seeing Enma is not an option.

The silence is stifling. With nothing to do now but wait, the implications of Julie's words cut through Tsuna's heart like a slice from shigure kintoki.

"_If Enma can make it until morning…" _

Enma, one of his best friends, one of his most important people, might not live to see tomorrow.

Tsuna's stomach rolls and he lurches forward, forehead pressed to his knees and arms wrapped around his middle as he takes short, gasping breaths. They do nothing to calm the panic seizing his body. The waiting room, the hospital, the entire world seems to crumble away around him, leaving nothing but his body, curled up on a chair and shaking pathetically, and a pair of meek red eyes that won't open no matter how much he begs.

He isn't sure how much time he spends like this, but eventually a painful tug on his hair snaps him from his misery. Reborn stands on the chair next to him, staring up at his face with those unusually serious eyes, and Tsuna thinks that he's probably about to be scolded for how he's acting—for being weak, for being No-Good Tsuna, for being himself—but Reborn only says, "Aren't you going to go see your friend, Tsuna?" and nods his head toward something over Tsuna's shoulder.

There's a man in a white coat standing there, clutching a clipboard and frowning. He nods at Tsuna (reluctantly, Tsuna thinks. Reborn must have something to do with the doctor's sudden change of heart about visitors) and gestures for him to follow. Tsuna hesitates, turning to glance at Adel and Julie, but the waiting room is empty but for Reborn, the doctor, and himself.

"The others-?"

"Have already seen him." Reborn's tiny hand tugs at his hair again, gently this time, and Tsuna gives a shaky smile in return. "Go, Tsuna."

Tsuna goes.

The doctor leads him wordlessly through a large set of doors and down a few hallways, coming to a stop outside a door with Enma's name scribbled hastily on a whiteboard affixed to the wall next to it. He doesn't move to enter the room, instead turning to Tsuna and surveying him with critical eyes. He gives Tsuna a brief lecture about not touching the machines, not disturbing the IVs, and for the love of God please don't try to wake him up, because he needs rest. Tsuna nods, only half listening, and the doctor sighs and pushes the door open for him before turning his eyes to his clipboard and walking back the way they had come.

The room is dimly lit due to the late hour and smells strongly of the cloying, sterile scent of hospital and sickness with which Tsuna is becoming uncomfortably familiar as of late. When Tsuna's eyes adjust to the change in lighting he has to grip the footboard of Enma's bed tightly to stay standing.

He can only tell that the boy on the bed is Enma because of the messy red hair spread across the starched white pillow. The boy's mouth and nose are covered by a bulky oxygen mask, and his forehead is wrapped in clean, white bandages. His eyes, shut tight in pain despite the medicine being leaked into his bloodstream by one of the many IVs in his arms, are ringed heavily in dark shadows. The rest of Enma is covered by bed sheets, but Tsuna doesn't really want to see anything more anyway.

'_My fault.'_

There's a single chair against the far wall, so Tsuna picks it up and carries it to Enma's bedside. He settles himself there, smoothing wrinkles out of the blankets covering his friend and finally allowing the tears to fall.

He's used to seeing Enma injured by now. The boy always seems to have a few bandaids stuck to him somewhere because of his clumsiness, after all. This, though… this is different. More. Too much, and Tsuna can't handle it because he's been trying so hard to keep Enma smiling, because Enma deserves to smile, and _why the hell did this have to happen-? _

His forehead is resting gently against Enma's shoulder and his tears are probably soaking the blanket covering him, but Tsuna doesn't want to move at all right now. Reaching slowly, he curls his fingers around one of Enma's limp hands, trying his best not to jostle any of the boy's IVs with the trembling of his body. He stays like this for what feels like a lifetime, until his tears run out and all that remains are the guilt and sorrow that claw at his chest without mercy.

The steady beep of Enma's heart monitor torments and much as it soothes him—because yes, even though it means Enma's heart is, in fact, still beating, it also means that Enma's bad enough off that his heart needs monitoring to begin with.

'_It's such an artificial sound.' _

_Beep. Beep. Beep. _

'_No one's heart sounds like this.'_

Tsuna isn't sure why this bothers him so much, but it does, so he rises from his chair a little and leans over Enma, pressing his ear to the spot over his chest beneath which his heart beats sluggishly.

_Lub-dub. Lub-dub. Lub-dub._

'_That's better.'_

He lets his eyes drift shut and savours this sound for a while, but soon his exhaustion bids him to sit down again or risk falling on top of Enma, so he flops back into his chair and settles for holding Enma's hand gently in one of his own.

Tsuna turns his eyes to Enma's face—what he can see of it, anyway, through the mask pumping air into his lungs and the bandages hiding wounds that Tsuna doesn't want to think about—and before he can really think about what he's doing, his fingertips are stroking along Enma's bruised cheekbone.

He moves slowly, dragging his fingers across the any part of Enma's face that he can, because the warmth of the boy's skin is a comfort to him. Warmth means life, and life means that Enma will smile again, laugh again, _open his eyes_ again, and that thought is enough to lift the corner of Tsuna's lips into a tired but genuine smile.

He wonders why it is that the fear that has been gripping him since learning of the attack is abating now. Julie was clear that Enma's situation is a grim one, and Enma certainly doesn't look healthy enough right now to warrant any feelings of relief, so Tsuna narrows his eyes and studies Enma's face in the budding light of dawn that spills through the window—

His head snaps up quickly enough to make his neck twinge painfully, but his attention is so fixated on the rising sun outside that he barely notices.

"_If Enma can make it until morning…" _

Sunlight shines like a beacon from the heavens onto Enma's bed, lighting up his face and making the shadows under his eyes fade from dark as death to simply tired.

"…_he'll be fine." _

Tsuna's sigh of relief almost drowns out the nearly inaudible groan, muffled by the oxygen mask, that escapes Enma's lips. Tsuna's eyes widen and snap back to Enma's face and his heart starts beating a mile a minute in his chest and his breath is coming faster because _Enma's waking up, he's awake, and he's fine, and holy shit what do I do, should I tell someone-?_

Enma's brows are furrowed and he's shifting restlessly, shaking his head from side to side, and Tsuna thinks it's probably because of the oxygen mask. His fingers are shaking, but he manages to press the call button on the side of Enma's bed. Brown eyes flick nervously to the IVs in Enma's arm, and Tsuna wonders if the boy's weak struggles will be enough to dislodge them. He doesn't really want to find out, so he reaches a hand out and runs his fingers gently through Enma's hair, whispering clumsy soothing words until his struggles cease and crimson eyes open slowly to meet his own.

Enma looks confused, which is understandable, given the circumstances, so Tsuna offers him as bright a smile as he can at the moment and the only greeting he can think of.

"G-Good morning, Enma-kun!"

Enma manages a weak smile in return (at least, Tsuna thinks he does. It's sort of hard to tell through the mask), and Tsuna struggles to keep his grip on the boy's hand light. The urge to squeeze him, to assure himself that Enma is really here in front of him, gazing up at him with those strange red eyes, is strong, but the fear that one wrong touch may break him is stronger.

Instead of a nurse, as he expected, the doctor who had led Tsuna to the room opens the door, clipboard still in hand, and approaches Enma's bed. He seems a little surprised to see Enma awake, but he doesn't say a word as he fiddles with a few machines, shines a tiny flashlight in Enma's eyes, and nods to himself as if satisfied by something. The man carefully removes the oxygen mask from Enma's face, leaving the IVs in his arms, and presses a button on Enma's bed that makes the entire thing fold up a bit so Enma is sitting mostly upright. Leaving the two with only a distracted, "Welcome back, Kozato-kun", the doctor walks out the door again, scribbling furiously on his clipboard as the door swings shut behind him.

Tsuna's eyes are on the door. Every part of his body is begging him to turn around and bask in the sight of Enma, awake, alive, but the guilt still clenching his heart won't allow him to. His shoulders are hunched and his head is bowed, but his hand is still wrapped around Enma's as tightly as his fear of hurting the other boy further will allow. His breaths are even but shaky, and he wonders how long he can keep his eyes away from Enma, because—

"Tsu-Tsuna-kun?"

Not long, apparently.

Enma's weak voice breaks him easily and he shifts his gaze to the boy's pale face. Enma's red eyes are warm, and there _is_ a smile on his lips after all, and that's warm too, and soft, and Enma looks really glad to see Tsuna here, even though—'_My fault, my fault,'_—it's Tsuna's fault he's in the hospital, Tsuna's fault he's hurt, Tsuna's fault his entire family has been suffering—

He doesn't deserve Enma's warmth, so he pulls his hand and his eyes away from the boy and rises quickly on shaky legs, nearly knocking over his chair in his haste.

"A-Ah! You must want to see the others, right?" His voice is quick and breathless. "They were here a while ago, but they left. I'll—um, I'll go get them! Adelheid-san will be glad to see you, Enma-kun!"

He spins around, nearly tripping over his own feet as he hurries for the door, but he only makes it to the foot of Enma's bed before—

"W-wait, Tsuna-kun!"

Reluctantly, Tsuna complies. He turns back to face the boy, heart stuttering faintly in his chest at what he sees.

Enma looks embarrassed, sheepish, and Tsuna thinks that if the boy had enough blood to spare for such things he might even be blushing a little. His eyes are averted from Tsuna's and his fingers are pulling absently at some threads in his blanket.

"Can you… will you stay?"

Tsuna can't do anything but agree. He sighs softly, dragging heavy legs back to Enma's bedside and dropping into the chair again.

Tsuna doesn't say a word, and neither does Enma, so they sit in silence for a few moments. Enma's eyes are still turned away from him, and Tsuna wonders if it's because Enma knows it's Tsuna's fault, all Tsuna's fault, and he's about to drop to his knees and beg for forgiveness when Enma's hand shifts to the edge of his bed meaningfully, his crimson eyes flicking to Tsuna's brown ones for just a second before snapping away again.

Tsuna might be useless, but he knows an invitation when one is presented to him. He takes a stuttering breath, heart clenching in an oddly pleasant yet unpleasant manner, and slides his fingers around Enma's.

"S-so, how are you feeling?" It's a stupid question, but the silence weighs too heavily on Tsuna's already guilt-burdened shoulders and he thinks if it goes on too much longer he might break down again, which is unacceptable now that Enma is awake, so he blurts out the first No-Good thing he can think of and bites his lip nervously.

"Been better," Enma mumbles, and Tsuna swallows heavily around the lump of self-loathing in this throat.

'_My fault,' _he thinks, and he tightens his grip on Enma's hand and tips his head forward until his chin nearly touches his chest as the apologies start spilling from his lips.

"I'm sorry, Enma-kun," he says, teeth grit against a fresh wave of tears that he refuses to let fall. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, it's all my fault—!"

The last thing he wants is to make Enma worry about him, not after all he's been through because of Tsuna. He doesn't deserve even a moment of the boy's concern. Regardless, Enma's voice is distraught when he interrupts Tsuna's apologies.

"Tsuna-kun!" He leans forward a little, raising his free hand to touch Tsuna's shoulder but finding that the IVs in his arm make it impossible to do so. "Tsuna-kun, it's alright… I'm fine, it's not your fault at all, it's okay—"

"It's not okay!" Tsuna's eyes snap up to meet Enma's, and they're watery and pathetic and No-Good, No-Good, _No-fucking-Good at all you can't even protect your friends you only cause them pain you worthless—_

"It's not okay," he whispers, staring into Enma's morose eyes, "You don't understand. It's my fault. The ones who did this to you, they were trying to get to _me_. They knew our families are close, that's why they attacked you!"

Enma says something very quietly, and Tsuna's absolutely positive that he didn't hear that right, because if Enma _knows _that, then how can he look at Tsuna with that warmth in his eyes, and how can he squeeze Tsuna's fingers so gently in his own, and how can he _not hate him? _

"Wh-what?"

"I said I know. That they were after you. I know. I heard them. When they were—" Enma stops, coughing awkwardly. Tsuna is shamefully glad that the boy doesn't finish his last sentence, because the implications of the first three words are enough to make his stomach churn, and he doesn't think he could handle hearing the rest.

Tsuna clenches his eyes shut tightly. His hand goes limp in Enma's and his shoulders curl inward, as if to defend his body from an impending blow. Enma knows that Tsuna is to blame for his injuries, and Tsuna thinks that surely this is the part where Enma tells him to get out of his hospital room and out of his life and _don't ever come back, you pariah, all you do is attract danger, _but instead Enma tightens his grip on Tsuna's hand and tugs him closer until Tsuna's head is resting under Enma's chin.

Tsuna's eyes snap wide as soon as his forehead touches Enma's collarbone, and he opens his mouth to reprimand the boy for possibly irritating his injuries, but he's struck dumb by the soft words that Enma whispers into his unruly brown hair.

"It's not your fault, Tsuna-kun. It's mine. I'm the one who attacked first."

Tsuna thinks his hearing must be going, because he can't have heard that right, either. Why would Enma-?

"Why?" He pulls back a bit, leaning over the side rail of the bed and staring with wide eyes at Enma's serious-looking face.

"Because they were talking about killing you!"

Tsuna flinches, fighting off the urge to shriek with great effort. "S-so you—"

"Attacked them." Enma's voice is firmer that Tsuna has ever heard it, but his confidence seems to break after only a moment and he sighs, shifting his gaze to their still-joined hands and playing absentmindedly with Tsuna's fingers.

"It was a stupid thing to do, I know. But I was so angry. And scared. And I just—" Enma pins him in place with a heavy look, and the soft words that come next simultaneously freeze and melt Tsuna's heart with their sincerity.

"I just wanted to protect you, Tsuna-kun. I didn't really think of anything else."

Tsuna isn't sure what he feels. He's a turbulent mess of gratitude and sorrow, relief and fear, and something bigger than all the rest put together; something deep and vast and warm that fills up every dark corner of his heart and makes his chest flutter strangely and before he can really stop and think about what he's doing he's closing that last little bit of space between Enma's lips and his own.

Tsuna thinks errantly that Enma's lips are much softer than they look, and he brings one hand up and runs his fingers gently over the other boy's cheek as he tilts his head slightly, lips barely pressing against Enma's.

It takes longer than it probably should for Tsuna's brain to process the fact that he's kissing his best friend, but when it finally does his body jerks back, eyes snapping open—_'Hiiie! When did I close them?'_—and staring at the boy in front of him like a deer frozen in place by the high beams of a transport truck.

Enma's body seems to have managed to spare some extra blood and sent it up to pool in his cheeks. His eyes are wide, shocked, and Tsuna is about to start apologizing all over again when they soften and a shy smile curves the lips that Tsuna now knows a little better than he'd ever expected he would, and Enma simply whispers "You're welcome."

Tsuna relaxes. It's new, and very strange, but this whole kissing Enma idea doesn't really seem like a bad one, so he decides that one more time won't hurt, not at all, and he leans down again. He can just feel the warmth of the other boy's mouth again when the door bursts open behind him and he lets out a squeak of fright, throwing himself back onto his chair with such force that the entire thing tips backward and he falls to the floor with a painful thump.

He struggles upright, rubbing the back of his head, and finds that the doctor must have made a phone call when he'd left earlier, because the entire Shimon family is crowding around Enma's bed, all talking at once. Adel looks to be trying to suffocate Enma with her chest, and Julie, for once the agent of reason, is trying very gently to pry them apart.

Tsuna watches the reunion with soft eyes and a gentle smile. He feels a sudden pressure on his shoulder and knows without looking that Reborn has joined them as well. His tutor prods his cheek with his gun made of Leon, face serious but eyes shining with that approving sort of gleam they get when Tsuna's done something right for a change.

"What will you do, Tsuna?"

Enma's eyes meet his own over Adel's shoulder, and Tsuna sighs. When he speaks his voice is low and firm, a tone not usually heard outside of his Hyper Dying Will mode.

"Everything I can to protect him."

Reborn only nods.

* * *

Reviews are always appreciated. Save Dera some wibbling, hmm? ouo


End file.
